


Sword of Damocles

by Lurlur



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Slow Show - mia_ugly
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aziraphale is Avery Fell, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Inspired by Fanfiction, Love, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Spoilers, The Morning After The Night Before, Trauma, from chapter 11 of Slow Show by Mia_Ugly, slow show by mia_ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21565861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurlur/pseuds/Lurlur
Summary: Inspired by Chapter 11 of Slow Show by mia_uglyAs such, it's spoiler-filled. Don't read this unless you're all caught up on Slow Show.If you're not reading Slow Show, what's wrong with you? Go, go now!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 235
Collections: Hot Omens, Slow Show Metaverse





	Sword of Damocles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mia_ugly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mia_ugly/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Slow Show](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20395261) by [mia_ugly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mia_ugly/pseuds/mia_ugly). 

> Thank you to mia_ugly for allowing me to play in the sandbox of her world.
> 
> Go read [Slow Show](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20395261/chapters/48375457) now!
> 
> I could rave about Mia's fic for hours. It's an exceptional study in storytelling, she hits all the beats of the Good Omens series but without making her story derivative. There are fully fleshed out characters and deeply symbolic parallels between Heaven and Hell and sexuality. 
> 
> The events of this fic take place just before the end of chapter 11. 
> 
> I intended to write a scene of the pair of them just cuddling and being sweet after waking up together. It turns out that they don't particularly care for my plans.
> 
> A million thanks for allowing me to take your characters out for a test-drive, Mia!

Waking up together, that’s a revelation, isn’t it? This isn’t the first time but it’s the first time in a while and, well, there’s something different about this one. Crowley’s first early morning thoughts are blissful and optimistic which is a strange fit on him but he likes the feel. It’s something else that he could get used to. Just like Avery’s arm draped loosely over his ribs, a grounding weight that says “this is real, I am here with you” and wrings songs from that invincible disaster in his chest that passes for a heart.

The sunlight is warm through the gaps in the blinds, Crowley can feel it in hot stripes across his back where the sheets have been pulled away. He’s still in that afterglow of tender and content, his body so very aware of what has been done to it, what it has been party to. This is what it is to wake up in Avery’s bed, wrapped in his arms and his love.

_Please_, Crowley thinks pointedly, _please let this be something I’m allowed. Let me have this now and forever. Let me be allowed to want this, to grow accustomed to it, never bored with it. Surely this isn’t too much to ask. _

That pinch, that subtle chafe of panicked doubt; the part of Crowley that will never truly be gone, as tenacious as his heart and indignant at being in the back seat. It screams at him, throwing itself against his psyche and demanding attention.

_You stupid junkie, you’re never supposed to have this. This happiness is reserved for the good people._

Crowley closes his eyes and breathes deep into his chest, right down to his diaphragm. Once, twice, a few more for good measure. Just to be sure. Better, it’s better now; he tries not to think about Pepper’s smug face and that subtle arch of her eyebrows as she’d look away and scribble something on her notebook.

He had been clear, hadn’t he? He’d laid his cards out and explained them painstakingly, over and over again. There was no way that Avery could have misinterpreted him. This, last night, everything, this was Avery saying yes to it all and giving him that 100% that he needed. There wouldn’t be, couldn’t be any more piecemeal love handed to him by a scared man who retreated to the false safety of distance. Avery is his and he is Avery’s, no matter what that looks like to the rest of the world.

_Ignore that lurch in your stomach, there’s been no talking yet, no expectations set. No good getting yourself worked up over nothing._

Back to the deep breathing, then. The enormity of this new reality keeps hitting him over and over, like waves breaking on a beach. Each time the hissing water withdraws and leaves a fresh configuration of thoughts and dreams, the next wave is getting ready to crash over him and mix up the sediment all over again.

The idea of being closeted again, to any extent, it’s poison. Crowley could definitely think of a few things worse than trying to live those lies again if he had some time to collect his thoughts. Coming out, it would be easier for Avery even if Crowley had to personally throttle every homophobe on the planet. It was going to be on Avery’s terms, with a safe love to retreat into away from the rest of the world when he needed it. In his bones, Crowley knew that he would do whatever it took to make this as different from his own experience as possible.

With that thought settling across his doubts like a warm blanket, Crowley allows his eyes to open again. Avery is still there, looking far too angelic for a man in possession of that wicked tongue. Now that is a much more pleasant train of thought and the twitch in Crowley’s cock confirms it. He wants to curl closer, to burrow into the warmth of this embrace but Avery is sleeping and it’s a sort of magic that Crowley is afraid of breaking. He’s breathing manually, trying to remember how ribs and lungs are supposed to interact so that the arm around him isn’t disturbed. Had he made the most of these moments back in the South Downs Honeymoon Fuck Cottage? Had he spent enough time just gazing at the lines of Avery’s face as he slept beside him? Probably not, there weren’t enough minutes in a year, a lifetime for him to be finished with gazing at this soft, pale face.

He knows that he’s wearing a dopey fucking smile. It must say something about his current level of exhaustion that, when Avery’s eyes begin to open, he doesn’t replace it with something more serious and cool.

Avery wakes slowly when he has the luxury, Crowley has watched this show enough to be familiar with the routine. His eyes open and close in repeated, lengthy blinks as if he is trying to remember how to make them work. It can be a full minute before he’s actually looking at Crowley but this morning isn’t one of those performances. Avery is looking at him with the softest little smile that Crowley has ever seen.

“Hello,” Avery murmurs.

What is Crowley supposed to do in the face of such perfection? He kisses Avery in reply, softly at first. Little more than a touch of his lips but then Avery makes that sound, that hungry little sigh that usually means he’s seen their waiter returning carrying plates. It’s wanting and waiting and impatience all wrapped up in one breath. Helpless to it, Crowley surges forward and takes Avery’s breath away with a kiss that begins with Crowley growling and ends with Crowley pinning Avery to the mattress and burying his face in Avery’s throat. He hadn’t thought that he’d have the stamina for this, not after last night, but Crowley was hard and straining, his hips pressing into Avery’s. He breaks away from the kiss, panting.

“Good morning,” Crowley smiles.

“The best I’ve ever had,” Avery agrees.

There’s a beat of silence where Crowley is looking down at Avery, admiring him and basking in love. Avery clears his throat.

“Are you intending to make anything of this,” he uses his chin to indicate the position that Crowley has him in, “Or am I to believe that you’re just a tease?”

Crowley laughs at that and kisses him again, just once.

“What would you like, angel?”

“Fuck me, just like this. Please?”

The bastard must know what that word, that _tone_ does to Crowley. It’s practically Pavlovian. He lunges for the lube on the bedside table and slicks his fingers, too eager to play it remotely cool. He savours every single sound that Avery makes as Crowley opens him up.

“How’s that, my love? Is it good?”

Avery stutters his confirmation, nodding frantically for good measure. Crowley leans back to roll a condom down his erection and coat it liberally with lube. Avery’s thighs are spread wide and welcoming; Crowley knows his way by heart and he guides his cock into the hot depths of his lover.

It’s a gentle entry, steady and considered. Crowley watches Avery’s face the entire time, trying to imprint the memories of his blissed-out expressions into his brain forever.

Once he’s all the way inside, Crowley pauses and licks his lips. His hands skate up Avery’s sides from his hips, not stopping until he’s holding Avery’s wrists against the pillow.

“Like this?” Crowley asks, hoping and wanting.

“Oh, love. Yes, just like this.”

Crowley covers him with his torso, almost melting over the curves of Avery’s body as his hips start to rock. The pace builds gradually, spurred on by Avery’s filthy moans until Crowley is putting his weight into it and gripping Avery’s crossed wrists with one hand so that he can close his fist around Avery’s erection.

“Do you like it like this? You like how I fuck you?” Disguising insecurity in dirty talk is the Anthony Crowley speciality.

“Yes, yes. Oh, just like that. I love, ah, how you fill me, Anthony.”

A wordless guttural snarl surprises them both but it does the trick as well; Avery cries out and tenses around Crowley, his legs wrapping around Crowley’s hips.

“Fuck, yes. Ah, I’m gonna-” Crowley follows him seconds later, spurred on by the first pulses of semen hitting his curled hand.

The thundering in his chest must be about to break through his ribs, Crowley can’t believe that his skinny torso is big enough to contain all the love he’s full of. Releasing Avery’s wrists, Crowley collapses on to his lover, smearing the sticky mess between their bellies. Avery is smiling at him, kissing him, brushing his hair back from his sweat-damp forehead and it’s all just too fucking perfect.

“I love you,” Avery whispers, but not like a secret.

Crowley smiles with his whole face.

“Say it again?”

“Gladly, my darling. I love you. I love you more than I thought I was capable of.”

“Soppy git,” Crowley rolls them on to their sides and kisses Avery’s throat roughly, “I love you, though”

When Crowley pulls away, they both pull a face at the wet mess they’ve made between them.

“Yuck,” he says, eloquently.

Avery snorts with laughter and waves his hand like this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

“Shower, then?” He manages once he catches his breath.

Crowley nods and, pausing only to ease off the used condom, follows Avery to the en-suite. They make it through a shared shower with nothing more distracting than kisses and Avery grumbling about Crowley blocking his drain with “that bloody great mane”. It’s pleasant, almost domestic in its own way. As they return to the bedroom and start to get dressed, Crowley realises that he’s waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him again. Maybe it’s the cliché of having to wear last night’s clothes, or maybe it’s that he never trusts himself to be happy for longer than it takes to fuck something up. He’s waiting for the sword to drop. As if on cue, Avery clears his throat.

“Come to breakfast with me?” Avery looks serious, as though he still fears that Crowley will reject the invitation.

“Yeah, angel. Of course.” Crowley shrugs on his shirt, trying not to sound relieved.

Avery clears his throat and looks Crowley in the eyes, Crowley is suddenly on the back foot and confused about the direction this invitation is taking.

“No, I mean come to breakfast _with_ me?”

This time, Crowley can only nod and press his lips together. Just like that, the gremlin of doubts that has gnawed at Crowley’s brain for his entire life becomes that bit weaker.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come talk to me on tumblr. I'm @luritto and I like warm hugs.
> 
> Did I thank mia_ugly yet? I probably should...


End file.
